


tumblr crossposts and abandoned wips (1d + lm)

by fakeheaux



Category: Little Mix (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 07:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18516298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakeheaux/pseuds/fakeheaux
Summary: just somewhere to put some of my tumblr fics and the wips i know i'll never finish but still want to publish





	1. nor

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at flickrseshions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was dedicated to 1000_directions and queerlyalex on tumblr, after they broke the glass ceiling and started shipping one direction members with superheroes, and after i saw some posts floating around tumblr about thor liking one direction and liking niall most

“Do you think we’re blending in?” Thor asks, peering over the pages of his open manga, his borrowed glasses askew, crooked on his nose. Niall glances over, nonchalantly sets the book right-side up in his hands, and nods.

“Definitely,” he says. He glances around, at all the people wandering around in their costumes. Really, they’re not. Neither of them are in cosplay, which makes them stand out, but since no one’s looking at them, Niall doesn’t think it matters. “Why’re we here, again?”

Thor frowns down at the manga, flipping it upside down again. “These are supposed to be read this way, Niall. I thought you had visited all the countries on Midgard enough to know their various customs.”

Niall laughs. “I haven’t been to  _every_  country on Earth, but I have been to Japan enough to know that mangas aren’t read upside down. They are read backwards, though.”

“Oh,” Thor says, peering more closely at the book. “I suppose that makes more sense. Not sure why I thought it was supposed to be read upside down, I mean, it’s just not possible. Unless, of course, you’re from Alfheim; some of the elves there have eyes made of diamonds, you see, so everything they gaze upon seems as though it is upside down. We studied them in school, it was quite interesting.” He points to a tall man in Thor cosplay. “ _That_  is why we are here.”

And suddenly he’s standing and walking towards the man, taking great, purposeful strides. Laughing, Niall shakes his head and follows. So much for blending in.

“You, sir,” Thor says, approaching the man. “I see you’ve chosen the best Avenger to imitate for today’s festivities, but might I just make a few suggestions?” He doesn’t wait for the man to answer before pointing at one of the braids in the man’s wig. “This strand should be much darker; Loki’s hair was black, not brown, and so you should have woven _black_ hair into this braid.” He points to the hammer next, which Niall actually finds quite impressive. “The symbol on Mjolnir was actually connected at the middle, see, not at the ends. I’m not actually sure how you did that, it makes no sense at all and I’m actually beginning to question your knowledge on the god of thunder.”

It goes on like that until finally, fed up, the man just walks away, not having said a single word the entire time. Grinning, Niall calls out a meek  _sorry for him_ and turns to Thor.

“So you’re just trying to find people who dressed up as you so you can correct them?”

Eyes scanning the large room, Thor nods. “I’m just trying to help them be their best me they can be.” His gaze lands on Niall. “Why didn’t you dress up?”

Niall shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Eh. Costumes are fun and all, but all the Avengers wear tights. Not very comfortable, is it?”

Thor’s brows pull together. “I don’t wear tights.”

“I know,” Niall laughs, “but it’s a bit weird to dress up as your-“ and he stops, there, because what is Thor to him? A friend, boyfriend, lover, booty-call-from-another-planet-that-was-destroyed-so-now-he’s-a-refugee-living-on-Niall’s-planet?

A small smile has grown on Thor’s face at Niall’s hesitation. “Trouble finding your words, love?”

“I…of course not,” Niall says. He clears his throat, checking his watch for something to do. “Soundcheck starts in a half hour; we should head back.”

The ride back to the arena is silent, until Thor turns to him bodily, a serious expression on his face. “Niall.”

“Yes, Thor?” he answers, brows raised. Thor is still wearing his glasses.

“If you were to partake in today’s events, which of my comrades would you dress up as?” Thor asks, face set and tone strict as if it were the most important question in the world. Niall smirks.

“Oh, I dunno,” he drawls, “Hawkeye is pretty cool. He’s a perfectly normal guy and yet he’s running with the strongest heroes in the world. And he’s deaf? Makes him even better, mate.”

Thor pouts. “You wouldn’t dress up as me? Not even a little?”

Niall shrugs, slouching in his seat. “Nah. No point in trying to be something I’m not.”

“What do you mean?” Thor asks, brows pulling together. Niall laughs, a bit awkwardly. He can already tell it won’t come out how he means it.

“No point in dressing up as a god if I’ll never be comparable, I guess,” he mumbles. He stares out the window. “Just not that great, you know.”

“If you’d been born on Asgard,” Thor says, voice gentle, “you’d be one the best warriors they’d ever seen.”

“Well, I wasn’t. And I’m not a warrior,” Niall answers.

“No,” Thor agrees. “Instead you’re the best musician Midgard has ever seen.”

And Niall knows it’s not true, obviously, not with artists like Frank Sinatra and Beyoncé out in the world, but it plants something warm in his chest anyway. He smiles over at Thor, places his hand out palm up on the seat between them, smiles even bigger when Thor takes it.

Has to turn away to hide just how big his smile is getting when Thor squeezes his hand, once, twice, three times.


	2. ziall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was (again) dedicated to queerlyalex on tumblr because they asked for someone to write a teen titans au and no one else was delivering

Jump City used to be a lot safer, to be honest. Niall never witnessed it that way, but he likes to collect newspapers that splash their adventures on the front page, big bold headline and nice clear picture, and every one of those articles always mentions at one point or another that the city was safer before the Teen Titans came along.

Niall doesn’t really care what the newspapers say, though. He doesn’t, really. Doesn’t care that they call him and his mates dangerous, or ‘trouble magnets.’ They’re not. All the bad guys were already in Jump City, doing their bad guy thing. The Teen Titans just decided someone finally needed to stand up to them.

“I can hear you thinking from all the way across the room,” Zayn says, not turning from where he’s hovering three feet above the ground. Niall loves when he does that. It’s wicked, and he wishes he could turn into something that hovers, but he doesn’t know any animals that hover. They all just fly, from what he knows. “Still thinking.”

Grinning, Niall makes his way out of the kitchen towards the sofas. He launches himself over the back of one and tosses the paper he’s holding at Zayn. Despite not being able to see it, Zayn catches the paper with his Force. It’s not actually called the Force, but Zayn’s such a nerd that he lets Niall call it that.

“Didn’t know you could read minds, now, mate,” Niall says. “Could have told us that few weeks ago when we were dealing with fecking MothMan.”

“Killer Moth,” Zayn corrects idly, head bent over the paper. Niall loves when he does that, corrects him. Usually he doesn’t care for it, not one bit, but when Zayn does it he just…melts, for some reason. “This what you’re worried about?” Zayn unfolds his legs and stands as easily as if he were climbing off a chair. He looks at Niall. “They can’t run us out, babes, you know that. They need us, even if they can’t admit it.”

Shrugging, Niall picks at a stitch in the sofa cushion. “Doesn’t seem to stop them from saying it, though.”

Zayn sighs. He’s at the couch in a few strides, coupled with the fact he’s practically gliding across the floor, easily as if it were a puddle of water. He drops next to Niall, sinking into the cushions and resting his head on Niall’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he says quietly. “Still,” he props his chin on Niall’s shoulder, digging in. “They won’t make us leave. They’d be calling us back the second we left the city.”

Niall hums, running a hand across Zayn’s knee. He’s usually not so tactile, Zayn, usually prefers to keep to himself, but lately he’s been all over Niall. Not, of course, that Niall would complain. He’ll never say it aloud, but he’s had the tiniest crush on Zayn since they met.

Well. Louis knows, but that hardly counts. Louis knows everything.

The alarm suddenly begins to blare, red lights flashing throughout the building. Louis’s voice begins to blare over their T-Communicators.

“Get your arses up and let’s go!” he says. “We’re headed to the electronics store on 45th East. Looks like Overload is at it again.”

Niall and Zayn exchange a look. The last time they had to deal with Overload, Liam’s circuits almost fried. If it hadn’t been for his backup system, they’d still be trying to wake him up.

“I’ll meet you there, yeah?” Niall says, standing. Zayn nods, already pulling his cloak from god knows where. Niall swears he has a bunch hidden all over the Tower, but he hasn’t yet been able to prove it. One day.

Niall’s just about to change into something that can fly - a pterodactyl is usually his first pick - when Zayn calls his name.

“We’re not getting kicked out of Jump City,” he says, pulling his hood up. A disc of dark energy forms underneath his feet, levitating him a few inches off the ground. “They need us, and they know it. Otherwise they wouldn’t be calling us every time Overload decides to recharge his batteries at the local RadioShack.”

A grin makes its way into Niall’s face, even though he’s not really feeling it.

“Last one there has to put him in the battery,” he says, and shifts. The last thing he sees before he flies out the window - which conveniently opens up whenever he, Zayn, or Harry need to fly out - is Zayn’s nose scrunching up in disgust.


	3. ziall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on tumblr. this was from my spider-man au for the 1dcollab. i deleted this scene because i was running short on time (lol) and didn't know how to fit this and everything that had to come before and after it into the story without running out of time, so i ended up cutting a lot of other potential stuff from the fic too. this is the only thing that was actually written, tho

“Niall, what is that sound?” Zayn asks. Niall winces, adjusting his grip on the police cruiser. **  
**

“Uhhh,” Niall hums, looking around. “You know, I’m not actually sure, it’s just like, coming from nowhere, you know, and—”

“It sounds like  _sirens_ , Niall,” Zayn interrupts. “What the hell are you doing? I told you to leave that stuff to the cops, okay, I get that you like helping out but some things just work out better if you don’t get involved, okay?”

Sighing, Niall glances back at the cops in the car. The driver ignores him, yelling some stuff into his handheld, but his partner holds up his cellphone, tilting it in question. Niall nods, bracing himself on the car with his elbow and throwing up a peace sign as the cop snaps a picture. He shoots a thumbs up at Niall, grinning, and Niall smiles back before he remembers that he can’t see his face and gives him a thumbs up instead.

“Niall!” Zayn snaps. Niall jumps, almost losing his grip on the phone before he turns around. They’ve almost caught up to the car they’re after. Niall needs to make this quick.

“Listen, Zayn, everything is fine, alright? I’ll be careful.”

Zayn scoffs. “Yeah, that’s exactly what you said last time before you showed up at my door with a concussion.”

“Hey,” Niall mutters. “Listen, I am going to be fine, okay, this guy doesn’t even have any weapons. He literally just got into his car and ran off, alright? I’m perfectly safe, I promise.” There’s a long silence, Niall’s ride getting closer to the car in front of them with every second. “Zayn?”

There’s a rush of air that has nothing to do with Niall hanging onto a car going sixty miles per hour. “Yeah, okay, just. Don’t lie to me, alright? You better be in perfect condition when I see you tomorrow.”

Niall scoffs. “When am I ever not?” He yelps when the car swerves into the next lane unexpectedly. “Okay, I really gotta go. I’ll let you know when I’m finished here, alright, love you.” He hangs up the phone, shoves it down the front of his suit, and leaps off the police cruiser and onto the back of the car they’re chasing. It’s about time he gets this thing over with.

—

He crawls through Zayn’s open window that night, careful not to make any noise. He lets go of the roof and drops lightly onto the floor, landing in a crouch. He freezes to make sure no one’s suspected his entrance, then takes off his mask and spins to survey the room. Usually Zayn is in his room when Niall sneaks in, but when he’s not Niall likes to look around to see what’s changed. Usually there’s new art on the wall.

“Yeah, love you too,” Zayn says, outside the door, and a wedge of light floods the room as he opens it and pauses. “What? Oh, no, I’m good. Yeah. No, mom. I’m fine, I promise. It’s not a big deal, I’ll be fine. Alright. Good night. Okay. Yeah. Night.”

Niall’s brows are quirked when Zayn finally enters the room, jumping a bit when he sees Niall standing in the middle of his dark room. He quickly shuts the door behind him, switching on the little lamp on his desk. He doesn’t come any closer, brows furrowed. Niall frowns.

“You alright?” he asks quietly. “Seemed like a pretty intense conversation with your mom.” He hadn’t caught as much of it as he could have, was trying not to pay attention so they could have some privacy, but it sounded like Zayn was hurt or something. He was spending too much time reassuring his mom he would be okay for Niall’s liking.

Zayn nods, glancing away and crossing his arms across his chest. He clears his throat, swaying on his feet. “Yeah, just. Um. She’s worried, you know, about me and you.”

What? “Why would she be worried about me and you? Are we okay?” Were they having a fight that he forgot about? He can’t remember, unless Zayn is just really upset about Niall hanging up on him for the car chase.

Sighing loudly, Zayn nods again. “Yeah, I mean. I think we might be more than okay? If, um, if I heard you correctly on the phone earlier, then—”

“What do you mean?” Niall laughs awkwardly. “What did I say?” He honestly can’t remember anything about that conversation anymore. He’s blanking. Oh god. He’s about to be broken up with. Or proposed to. He’s…not old enough for the latter, but he’d prefer it over the former.

“Niall, you said you love me,” Zayn laughs breathlessly, shrugging. “You said you would call me back and then you said you _love me_.” He shakes his head, seemingly at a loss. “I just need to know if you meant it, I guess, because I—”

Niall cuts him off, shooting a web at him and reeling him in. Zayn gasps, hands landing on Niall’s shoulders. They sort of just stare at each other until Niall laughs quietly, still aware of Zayn’s sisters puttering about in the living room.

“You’re taller than me,” he says quietly. Zayn frowns, brows pulling together.

“Is that really all you’re gonna say, come on—” Zayn’s words are lost as Niall kisses him, and he sighs into the kiss. He scoffs when Niall pulls back, resting their foreheads together.

“I do love you,” Niall says, his eyes closed. “I know it was probably a shitty thing to say it over the phone the first time, but I do. Looks like you’re stuck with me.” He fingers the web connecting them. “In more ways than one, it seems,” he says with a smirk. Zayn grins, shaking his head.

“God,” he sighs, tucking his head into Niall’s shoulder. “I love you too, man.” Niall snorts. “I just—graduation is in two months.” Niall freezes. “What are we going to do if I get into Oxford, huh?” He pulls back, frowning. “You’ll still have a whole year left, and then what? You can’t just—drop whatever opportunities you may get just to follow me. Not—not that I’m saying you would, of course, just. You know.”

Sighing, Niall lets him go, perching on Zayn’s desk. “I mean, shit, Zayn, way to bring down the mood.” He runs his hands over his face, back through his hair and down to his neck where they stay, anchoring him down. He can’t look up. “I don’t know. If you’d be willing to wait, then, you know I would ask that you did. I don’t have to go to  _Oxford_ , specifically, you know, because I’m sure there’s plenty of colleges in England that’ll be close enough. Honestly, I could care less what opportunities I’m given here; I just wanna be with you.” His brows furrow as he thinks over what he’s just said. “And I  _know_  that sounds stupid, I do, because we’re just kids, but I really don’t care. Right now is what matters, and right now I want you.”

He looks up to see Zayn staring at him, eyes soft and brown and wet. Niall shrugs.

“I just want you.”


	4. gen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on tumblr. i was watching the good place and i was thinking about how interesting it would be to see someone end up in the good place because despite being mediocre at best. this takes place after niall stumbles across harry (this verse's michael) and grimmy (this verse's janet) talking about ~stuff~ and he realizes he may not be where he's supposed to be
> 
> content warning: there's sort of a crass statement about the death of a certain person, so if that bothers you maybe don't read this one? idk but like the architects from the show are supposed to be really tactless and stuff. if it really bothers a lot of people i will edit it out

“Niall, you’re here because I put you here,” Harry says, eyes wide. Niall’s brows pull together.

“Isn’t that how it works?” he asks. “Like, your system or whatever -“

Harry frowns. “No. I picked you, specifically, to be brought here. I’m the only reason you’re here.”

“So - so I don’t actually deserve to be in the Good Place?” Niall asks. “All - all this,” he waves a hand around, “is because you watched me on earth while you were building this town?” He scoffs, taking a step back. “What the fork, Harry?”

Harry sighs, wetting his lips. He runs a hand through his hair, fixes the lapels of his flowery suit. It’s a light blue, today, with pink flowers. Niall thinks he saw it on twitter once, when Deo was taking the mick about how stupid fashion shows are.

“Yeah,” Harry says, pulling Niall back. “You - you weren’t good enough of a person to have earned your way here, when you were alive. You were nice, and you didn’t do anything absolutely terrible, but it’s not like you were out donating all of your time to charity either. Like - Louis is a total, um, what’s the word -“ he snaps, looking lost, fingers waving, and sighs. “Grimmy?”

A dull tone rings, and Grimmy appears beside them, smiling pleasantly. “Hiya.”

“Yeah, hi,” Harry says, “what’s the word that we use to describe Louis?”

Grimmy‘s pleasant smile turns a bit cold, and he tilts his head innocently. “Prat?” he asks politely.

Harry grins, hands held out. “Yes, exactly, thank you.” He turns back to Niall as Grimmy disappears with another ding. “So even though Louis is a total prat, he still did all that stuff with the childrens’ charities. And then after his mum, well, you know,” he slides a finger along his neck, sucking on his teeth, “he devoted even more of his time and money to those charities. Especially the cancer ones. So his good deeds cancelled out his pratty attitude.” He frowns. “Is that a word?”

“No, Harry,” Niall sighs. He rubs a hand across his forehead. “Why, then?” Harry frowns, brows pulling together in confusion. “Why did you bring me here if I don’t actually belong?”

“Oh,” Harry’s eyebrows pull back. “Um, so here’s the thing. I’m not, like, an angel or anything, I’m just an Architect, so because of that I’m not allowed to - to  _be_  with anyone. In that way. When we were picking who would live here I just got so _bored_. There were so many files to choose from and I am  _not_  a reader, Niall, let me tell you. You’d think that after being alive for a few millennia I would have grown accustomed to all sorts of activities but all I really enjoy doing is -“

Niall flicks his nose. Harry stops, blinks, and scrunches his nose.

“That felt, em, peculiar.” he says. “Anyway, so I was going through the files when I saw you in Bressie’s memories. I was interested, I thought you looked nice, and so I looked into your file. And the more I read about you, the more I had this feeling grow inside me, right here,” he presses his fingers right below his chest, above his stomach. Niall’s breath catches. “It’s not anything I’ve ever felt before. And when I asked around, none of the other Architects could tell me what it meant. So I looked it up in your world, and it turns out that I was attracted to you. So I brought you here.”

Niall swallows hard. “Where’s Bressie, then?”

Harry’s brows perk. “Who?”

Jaw working, Niall repeats the question. “You said you saw me in his memories. So why isn’t he here? Where is he?”

“Oh,” Harry flaps a hand. “You’re not allowed to be in the Good Place with people you know, so I gave him and his soulmate to Gemma, so they could be placed in her neighborhood instead.”

Niall nods. Then another thought comes to him. “What about Zayn? If I’m not supposed to be here, then I’m not really his soulmate. And if I’m not really his soulmate, then he’s missed out on the opportunity to meet his true soulmate. Where’re they?”

Harry bites his lip. “That’s another thing. Zayn’s not technically supposed to be here, either. I accidentally mixed him up with another Zayn Malik, but only because Zayn’s birth name was originally spelt with an ‘i’ rather than a ‘y.’”

Gaping at him, Niall scoffs. “What other shirt did you fork up then, eh? Where’s the real Zayn? And his real soulmate?”

Finally, Harry looks as though he’s delivering good news. “Also in Gemma’s neighborhood. I figured it out very early on, and Gemma’s neighborhood opened after mine, so she was able to make space for them. I’ve only left Zayn here instead of sending him to the Bad Place so that you’re not alone.”

“Right,” Niall sighs. “Christmas, this is a mess.” He pauses. “Christmas?”

Wincing, Harry shrugs. “Technically you were about to take the name of a religious figure in vain, so it was a swear.”

Great. A paradise where he doesn’t belong, and he can’t even express himself by saying a real swear word. “You’ve got to be forking kidding me.”


	5. jerrie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on tumblr. this is from a sex worker! au where jade is a prostitute (is that an offensive word? is there another one i should be using?) and she gets caught up in some legal trouble so lawyer!perrie helps her out. jade's done with a night of working and perrie calls her from a party

“Hello?” Perrie shrieks. Jade flinches, pulling the phone away from her ear.

“Perrie?” Jade asks slowly. She can hear music pumping through the phone, along with the sound of people. “Are you at a party?”

“Yes! It’s so much fun, Jade, you should come!” Perrie yells, and shouts something incoherent and muffled.

Jade frowns, glancing down the alley she’s in before walking out into the street. It’s barely half nine on a Thursday, and the streets are still fairly full with men and women in casual and formal attire alike. It’s much too early to be getting drunk on a weekday.

“Are you at home?” she asks. “Or do you need me to come get you?”

Perrie shouts something else, then a _no!_ into the phone. “Come here, Jade, it’s a party!”

Jade groans, running a hand over her face. “Just - text me the address, yeah? I’m taking you home, okay?”

Perrie yells _okay_ , and not ten seconds later a text is coming through with an address. It’s riddled with typos, but Jade figures it out easily enough. She calls an uber, thinking it’s worth the money if it’ll get her to Perrie quickly.

The address ends up being a fancy house in the middle of the city, big enough to claim its own huge yard and gate, which stands open.

“Thanks, love,” Jade says, scooting out of the car. She’s still in her pulling clothes, but it’s probably still appropriate for a party of this size. She slowly walks up the drive, cautious of the groups of people loitering in the yard, drinks or cigarettes in hand. When she reaches the steps to the door, she hesitates.

What is she doing here? This isn’t her scene at all; posh uni grads who think they’re so smart because they majored in contemporary Russian literature, as if that’s a thing, as if that’ll actually get them anywhere in life. Expensive beer and vodka and actual food, rather than the shitty stuff you can buy at a corner store and tables laden with crisps and dip and, if you’re lucky, something sweet. _That’s_ what Jade is used to, the shitty stuff no one bothers to pretend to like. The shitty people who just want to get drunk or high or both, the ones who want to get laid without any strings and won’t care to lie about it.


	6. gen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on tumblr. this was after i'd seen it follows for the first time and it left me shook to the core and i needed to get the feelings i was feeling out somehow. moral of the story: condoms don't protect you from sexually transmitted demons

Niall wakes up shivering. He’s in some sort of abandoned building without walls, and he’s shirtless, like he was when he passed out, but he’s at least he’s got his pants on. He hopes that arsehole Sam had the decency to at least save his clothes.

He groans, straightening his head. He’ll have a crick in his neck for days, after this. Straightening his arms, he -

He can’t straighten his arms. He looks down, already wincing, and sees the black zip ties holding his arms fast to the armrests of the chair he’s in. Pulling on them, he can’t help the small grunts of effort that keep coming out.

“Help,” Niall calls, voice croaky. He coughs roughly, once, and says it louder. “Help!”

“You’re awake?” he hears. He freezes. It’s Sam. The beam of a torch bounces around in front of him. “Good. Listen, mate, I’m sorry about this but I had to show you it’s real. You wouldn’t believe me otherwise.”

Niall frowns, brows pulling together. Real? What’s real? This awful kidnapping scenario? Yeah, he thinks, this is definitely real.

The circle of light the torch leaves on the wall grows smaller as Sam gets closer. Niall jumps when his hand jostles the back of the chair he’s in.

“I don’t know when it’ll be here by, but it’s coming, alright, and I need to explain this to you,” Sam says, looking through the spaces between massive concrete pillars. There should be walls there, probably were at some point, but they’re long gone. Niall feels like the unfortunate first victim in a horror movie. The one they show in the first four minutes, before the title fades up on the screen, so you understand what’s going on.

Only he doesn’t understand what’s going on.

Sam appears in front of him, eyes wide and bouncing around. “You need to find someone else, and pass it along to them.” He walks off again, searching beyond the building they’re in. “Only way you can pass it on is by sleeping with someone. If you don’t give it to someone else and it catches you, you’ll die.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “And then it’ll come back for me.”

Niall pulls at the zip ties, feeling the plastic bite into his skin. “Help!” he calls. His voice echoes throughout the building. “Someone help me!”

Freezing, Sam aims his torch between two concrete pillars. “It’s here,” he whispers harshly. He runs to Niall, grabs the arms of the chair, and rolls him to where he’d just been. Niall shouts, his feet dragging on the concrete floor until he pulls them up. “Look,” Sam says.

There’s a woman, her clothes torn and dirty, walking towards them. She’s on the road a ways away, not even close to the building’s entrance to the ground floor. Niall can barely make her out, and he figures there’s no way she can see them where they are.

But she’s staring right at them.

A shiver runs through Niall’s spine, shaking him all over, and he shakes his head, tears escaping from the corners of his eyes.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks. “Sam, please, just let me go.”

He cries out as Sam pulls him back roughly, steering him through a dark hall.

“I needed to show you,” he says. “You can’t let it touch you, you can’t let it catch you. You need to pass it on, or else it’ll kill you and then it’ll come back to me.”

He leads them back to his car, cuts the ties around Niall’s wrists. Before Niall can react quick enough to run, or at least punch him, Sam uses a fresh zip tie to fasten his hands together. He helps Niall into the backseat of his car.

Niall cries the whole way home.

When they’re on the street to his and Harry’s house, Sam starts talking again.

“You have to pass it on, okay?” he says. “Just - sleep with someone, it doesn’t matter who. It should be easy for you, you’re cute, but you have to do it before it catches up to you.” He slows to a stop right in front of Niall’s house, doesn’t even turn the car off before he’s climbing out and pulling Niall’s door open. “Just - don’t let it catch you.” He pulls Niall out, sets him down on the street, tosses his clothes at him. Doesn’t even cut the ties around his wrists. “It’s walking, but that’s just it, okay? It’s walking. It’s slow, but it’s not stupid.” He climbs back into the car, sticks his head out the window. “Don’t go into any space that hasn’t got more than one exit.”

And he drives off.

Niall sees Harry, sat on the porch, with two others. Probably Louis and Liam, but Niall’s vision is still hazy from whatever Sam used to knock him out.

Stumbling to his feet, Niall tries to walk to where Harry is. His foot catches on the curb, and he falls.

“Niall!” Harry calls, and Niall begins to cry again, fresh tears falling onto the grass beneath him.

 _Don’t_   _let_   _it_   _catch_   _you,_ Samsaid _. You have to pass it on._

Niall is so screwed.


	7. ziall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on tumblr. this was supposed to be the opening scene to a verse i had been creating on my own and had almost been planning on trying to actually publish, but after i realized how much world building was needed i kind of gave up on it. might go for it again, tho
> 
> in this verse wizards/ sorcerers are different from witches  
> wizards/sorcerers - rely on spells, books, etc for their magic  
> witches - rely on their natural elements and such for their powers (water, earth, space, etc)

Niall’s shop is small. He sells tonics and potions, spells and ingredients, anything you can name, really, but it’s small. Magic isn’t used so much anymore, and those who do still use it don’t want people to know that they are. Still, Niall runs his shop for eight hours a day, every day, all week. He hasn’t really got much else to do.

Plus, he like watching Zayn.

He’s the high wizard’s apprentice, the one right across the street who sells spell books. They open up shop almost as often as Niall, only they take more breaks than Niall does. But they have reason to, whereas Niall doesn’t. The high wizard has been teaching Zayn how to use magic, how to coerce the force out of their books and wands and crystal balls. Niall already has magic, already knows how to control it. Witches are different like that.

The other shops on the street aren’t as strict in their schedules as Niall is, but it’s mostly because of the rules the Enforcers have put into place. It wasn’t like this before. Niall can still remember the days where there was a line out the door, dozens of witches and wizards alike stopping by every day. Then the Enforcers got paranoid and put a stop to it.

No one uses magic openly, now.

That doesn’t stop Niall from opening every day, although he is extremely careful about it. He’s changed all his signs, inside and outside of the shop, and he’s arranged all his displays to look as though he’s just an apothecary. And when the Enforcers are on patrol throughout the region he makes sure to offer them plenty of (fake) items from his inventory, under the guise of trying to keep them happy.

It works well enough, he thinks.

They are the only region that gets patrols, actually. The Foraoise people have no magic, and the Telkie people who are gifted aren’t strong enough to do any damage. The Draíochta, though, well. Seeing as this is the region where they came from, they have reason to be worried.

Across the street, Zayn waves at Niall.

Pleased, Niall waves back, flinching when Zayn’s master smacks him across the head with a flat hand. The high wizard of Central Draíochta is a no nonsense man, doesn’t much like when his only remaining apprentice slacks off. When he turns his back to Zayn, seemingly pleased with the pain he’s inflicted, Zayn shrugs at Niall, sheepish.

_Meet me after closing, by the fountain,_ he sends. Niall grins, nodding. He’s still not sure how it is that Zayn learned to send his thoughts to other people’s minds, but that’s alright. It probably came from one of his books. Which would make it practically impossible for Niall to learn how. He’d have to figure out a ritual or potion or something that will give him that ability.

Because that’s the difference between witches and wizards; they’re confined to they magic they have and the magic they make, respectively. Niall, a witch, is only able to do practice the magic that is already in him, strengthened by the elements around him. He can make potions, spells, anything, as long as he uses the elements. Zayn, on the other hand, is a wizard, and can only practice the magic that comes from the words in his books, scrolls, or anything else that’s been written.

Researchers from millennia ago figured it out; witches have the ability to coax the magic out of the things that have it - plants, the stars, animals - and wizards place the magic from their spells into whatever they please. Not too complicated, or at least Niall doesn’t think so. He has his magic at all times, Zayn needs a spell book to access his. Simple.

Zayn doesn’t agree, says there must be someway that wizards can get to be like witches, or the other way around. Niall doesn’t understand why it’s such a big deal.

It’s not like they can do anything about it anyway.


	8. gen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from my wip folder. this zombie au was born after i saw niall and julia on the late late show, because i wanted to write a fic highlighting their super cute friendship, but then i got a little too into my feelings while writing this, and it went into a dark place i didn't know how to bring it out of
> 
> i based the setup of julia's dorm after mine, so it's kind of important you have some sort of visual for it: it's a rectangular room, longer than it is wide, and when you walk in there are drawers, closets, and a vanity built into the wall on the right. to the left is a bed, pushed up against the left wall, and a desk sitting perpendicular to it. the other bed and desk are set the same, so the two beds and desks together make a sort of F shape. both desks face out of the room

She’s in the dining hall when it reaches campus. One minute she’s sitting with some of her hallmates, eating dinner, and the next she hears a scream, sees a girl go down, and is quarantined in her dorm. The RAs tell them all they’ve been instructed to stay in the building until health services, culinary, and security can find out what happened and how to stop it. Food will be brought to them, they’ll still be able to use the building as they need, classes are cancelled. Anyone seen outside of their building for any reason will be written up and fined.

Fine, Julia thinks, less homework for her. She’s got enough food in her room to last her about a month, and it’ll last longer if they’re still going to be fed by the school. Whatever. As long as she doesn’t fail all her classes because of this, health services can take as long as they need to. Julia will not complain.

And she doesn’t, until one week later when they get an email from one of the many entities on campus instructing them to stay in their rooms, and that there will be a security officer in each building making sure everyone does. She gets a second email from her RA, telling everyone on her floor that yes, something is very wrong but no, she doesn’t know what it is yet. As soon as she finds out, she’ll let everyone know. Don’t panic, don’t stress, and don’t leave your room. A shower schedule will be sent out in a few minutes.

Fine, Julia thinks, more time on Netflix for her. She can finally get around to watching that movie her sister’s been yelling at her about for weeks, now. Maybe she’ll call her dad. Her RA didn’t say anything about whether food would still be delivered to them, and neither did the other person from the first email whose position on campus Julia isn’t even aware of. Whatever. As long as Julia is allowed out of her room to use the bathroom at least, she won’t complain.

And she doesn’t, until she hears a scream from somewhere down her hall two days later. And then another, and another, until they start to slur together, until they fade out completely. Julia and her roommate, with whom she’s exchanged only a handful of words, share a look, and without saying a single word they head towards the door and open it. Julia enters the hall, sees her hallmates doing the same, but her roommate just peeks her head around the door.

Down the hall, there’s a pool of blood spilling out from beneath one of the doors. The other girls start murmuring amongst themselves, one girl starts crying quietly, and Julia bumps into the girl who lives right across from them.

“Sorry,” she mutters, barely sparing her a glance. She frowns, stepping forward, wondering what could possibly be happening behind that door. The pool of blood is slowly growing, and the girls who live right in front of it are crying hysterically, one of the mumbling incoherently about a towel. Their RA finally emerges from her room, looking pale and sickly, and she gags at the sight of the blood. She makes a call to whoever, and does her best to calm the other girls down.

“Just go back to your rooms, please,” she says. “I’m not supposed to let you out of your rooms. Come on, go. No one can come out until the next shower time, go.”

Some girls can’t escape to their rooms quick enough, others are more hesitant to do so. Most of them are just curious and want to know what’s going on. Julia would know, she’s one of them. She watches as their RA leans on the wall beside the offending door and knocks. There’s strange noises coming from the other side, like something tearing, and Julia knows what the thought niggling at the back of her head is but she doesn’t want to give it any attention, because it’s crazy and impossible and doesn’t happen in real life. This isn’t a terrible SyFy movie; there’s no way what she’s thinking is actually happening.

Her RA shoots her a look from down the hall, and Julia sighs, understanding.

Lauren, her roommate, is sitting at her desk, looking nauseous. One look at the trash can sitting between her feet tells Julia everything she needs to know. Grimacing, Julia moves past her to her own side of the room. She sits at her desk, dropping her head into her hands. Biting her lip, she looks up at her phone, resting on her pillow where she’d dropped it in her rush to get outside. It’s vibrating like crazy, the sound dull on her pillow, but she’s almost loathe to check what it is.

Eventually her roommate groans at her to pick it up, so she does, and sighs when she sees all the snapchat, instagram, and twitter notifications she’s getting. Most of them are from students in other halls, asking a million questions about the video one of her neighbors posted. As if she would know anything; her room is at the end of the hall, the furthest from the room with the blood. Julia puts her phone on do not disturb, wishing there was an option to put the world on do not disturb.

The next few days pass uneventfully. Security comes and deals with the room, but refuses to tell anyone what’s going on. They get another email saying that if the issue—which still hasn’t been revealed to them—isn’t solved within a week, then the semester will be put on hold and all the residential students will be sent home. It’s not the best news Julia has received in all this time, but at least they’re getting somewhere. She can’t help but wonder how many people have already snuck off campus; she’s seen a couple people on insta or whatever talk about it, but hasn’t heard anything solid from anyone else. Lauren didn’t even know people were doing it.

The campus finally stops delivering food to each residence hall, and Julia is forced to eat her own food. She rations it carefully, since nothing seems to be going according to the school’s plan and she doesn’t want to risk still being stuck here in a week with nothing to eat. Lauren doesn’t seem to have the same idea; she eats like all her food is hours away from expiring, but Julia doesn’t judge her. Everyone has their own ways of dealing with stress.

Two days before they’re supposed to be free to go home, Lauren gets a fever. She doesn’t get out of bed, doesn’t eat or drink anything Julia puts in front of her. Julia emails, texts, calls their RA to no avail. She texts some of the other girls in the hall, but none of them know what happened to the RA. Eventually she resorts to emailing health services, but they just tell her to stay calm and wait until security come to escort Lauren out of the building, which. Julia wasn’t panicking, she just needed to get in touch with someone who could help her help Lauren. So she sends them another email asking when security will be around, because she doesn’t have medicine and isn’t sure what’s wrong with Lauren. All she gets in return is the same answer as before, copied and pasted. She’s not sure if it’s an automated response or if whoever is emailing her just doesn’t have an answer.

Fine, Julia thinks, and waits. Lauren gets worse, moaning every few minutes and getting hotter by the second, until her bed is so soaked with sweat that it seeps through Julia’s joggers when she sits beside Lauren and holds a cool washcloth to her head. Julia isn’t sure what to do. The thought that popped into her head barely a week before comes back, unless it never really left, only this time it’s louder, and Julia wants to scream.  _ This can’t be happening,  _ she thinks,  _ it’s not fucking possible. _

And then Lauren dies.

Julia jolts awake at her desk, where she’d fallen asleep waiting for an answer from health services. At first she doesn’t understand why she’s woken up, but then she realizes it’s because the room is quiet. There’s no noise whatsoever, which is  _ wrong _ but she can’t figure out why. She turns around, to check on Lauren, and when she sees her roommate’s gaunt face and open eyes she realizes what it is. Since her fever started, Lauren has not been quiet in any way; her breaths rattled or wheezed, her moans were on some sort of biological timer. She’s been making noise since she got sick, and now she isn’t. Instead, she’s staring blankly across the room, and Julia wants to hurl.

Her arms shake when she pushes herself up from her seat, and she stumbles over her overflowing trash can when she tries to walk towards Lauren. Swallowing hard, Julia pulls her phone off her desk and dials 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?” a pleasant voice asks. Julia’s throat is dry. She coughs once, hard, to bring some life back to it. “Hello?”

Her voice is creaky when she’s finally able to find it. “Hi, um. I think my roommate may be dead?”

A pause. “I’m sorry?”

“Uh, she’s been sick for the past two days, and I fell asleep at my desk, and I think she may have—” Julia gags, slapping a hand over her mouth. There’s no way she’s gonna throw up, not when her trash is spilling onto the floor and the sink seems so far away.

“Ma’am, could I please have your address?” the operator asks. Her voice sounds like it’s underwater.

Julia flounders. Three years at this stupid school, and she never bothered learning the main address. “Um. I’m not sure, I—I’m up at the school? The college, um, MBU?”

Another pause, longer this time. “Okay, ma’am, I’m going to need you to call your school’s security office, okay? We’ve been told that any issue reported to us needs to be directed back to the school. Do you know your security office’s number?” Julia makes a faint noise, staring at Lauren, and the operator takes it as a no. “Alright that’s fine, I’ll just transfer you over. Can I ask what your name is, ma’am?”

Julia can’t answer. She’s too busy staring at Lauren, who just moved. Lauren  _ moved _ , even though Julia swears she was dead. The operator’s voice fades away as Julia’s arm lowers slowly. Lauren  _ is _ moving, don’t ask Julia how. Phone forgotten, she stumbles to her feet, watching as Lauren makes a strange noise deep in her throat, blinking. She rises in bed, looking around the room blankly. There’s something off about her eyes. Usually a crystal clear blue, they’ve become cloudy and gray, like old bathwater. Her movements are off, too. Lauren is a dance major—she’s got a performance coming up in a month, or did—and she moves with the fluidity of one, but for some reason now she’s all twitchy and jerky, as if she’s lost all control of her fine motor skills.

The voice of the operator is small and tinny from where it’s coming from on the floor, but Julia ignores it. “Lauren?”

Her roommate’s head jerks as she turns to look at Julia, eyes still unfocused. Lauren stumbles out of the bed, almost tripping over a discarded rag on the floor. Her feet move clumsily, her arms hang heavy at her sides, and the thought Julia’s been having for weeks is now running across her mind like a flashing neon sign in Times Square. Julia’s breath starts to come in heavy as she tries to process what’s going on; her roommate is stumbling towards her in a very creepy way, the door is behind her roommate, and 911 is still on the phone.

“Lauren, it’s me,” Julia says. Slowly, she kneels, blindly grabbing for her phone. When she feels it, she snatches it up and presses it to her ear again. “Listen, ma’am, I don’t know what’s going on but I don’t have time to call security so  _ please _ send someone right now, okay, my roommate is—” she cuts herself off. She can’t very well say it, can she?  _ Yes, officer, my roommate is dead and may or may not want to eat me, I’m not quite sure. Oh, of course, I’ll go with you to the psych ward of the nearest hospital, I thought you’d never ask! _ As if.

“Ma’am, I know it may seem scary, but I cannot do anything for you,” the operator says. “I’ve already called the security office for you, but I never got your name, so I couldn’t send them directly to you. I heard you say Lauren and I told them that, but even then it’s going to be a while until they track you down, since I don’t have a last name. Just stay calm, okay?”

Julia screams. It’s terrible timing, really, since the operator just told her to stay calm, but Lauren lunged at her, all teeth and nails, and she couldn’t really hold it in. She drops her phone again, dodging out of the way. Lauren comes after her, arms swinging wide and clumsy. Still screaming, Julia scrambles onto her bed, using it as a boost to climb onto her fridge and over to Lauren’s bed. The way they’ve got the room set up means Lauren needs to come back around her desk to get to where Julia is, but Julia doesn’t think it’s enough time for her to get to the door, and with the way Lauren is snarling, she doesn’t really want to risk it.

“401!” Julia yells, hoping the operator can hear her. “Woodson 401!” She snatches a pair of styling shears off Lauren’s desk, breath hiccupping in her chest. Holding them out in front of her, Julia backs against the door, hand scrambling at the knob. She can’t get it open, and she keeps flicking the lock back and forth but nothing’s working and Lauren is getting closer god she’s right  _ there _ —

Lauren’s hands dig into her shoulders, pulling her away from the door with a snarl. Julia screams, jamming the shears into Lauren’s chest over and over again, pushing her face away with her other hand, but it doesn’t seem to have any sort of affect on her. She snaps her teeth at Julia, blood dripping down her chest and onto the floor, and with a shout Julia stabs the shears into Julia’s eye. They fall to the ground, Julia astride Lauren, and she sobs, stabbing the shears into her eye again and again. Chest heaving, she stares down at the mess she’s made of her roommate and screams again, scrambling off her. Sobbing, she throws herself at the door, finally getting it unlocked and falling into the hallway. There’s a group of girls standing around her door, and they fall back with shouts of their own, making a circle around her.

She curls up on the floor, sobbing into her knees, jumping when someone puts a hand on her shoulder.

“Julia, Julia, calm down,” someone says, and she looks up, vision blurry, to see her lab partner from biology kneeling next to her. Selena, her name is Selena and she’s a year below Julia but wicked smart and practically does all their work in the class. Julia didn’t even know she lived in this building, let alone on this floor. The sudden information shocks Julia into calming down, taking the hand Selena offers her and rising to her feet. Her hand is covered in blood, in Lauren’s blood, but Selena pretends not to notice.

The group of girls huddles around the door to her room, staring inside and muttering to each other. Julia can hear what they’re saying, what they’re insinuating about her, and she needs it to stop. She would never—

“She attacked me,” she says, voice hoarse. “She got sick a few days ago, with a really bad fever, and I kept calling Steph for help but she wouldn’t answer so I emailed health services and they told me to wait, but then she was dead and she attacked me. I  _ swear _ she was dead, she wasn’t breathing, and then—” she gags again, only this time she can’t hold back what comes next, and then the entrance to her room is covered in both vomit and blood. The other girls all shriek in disgust, jumping away from her, and Julia doesn’t blame them. Vomit is her least favorite of all bodily fluids.

When it’s over, someone hands her a towel and a mug with water in it. She thanks the crowd in general, unsure of where it came from, and uses the opportunity to wipe the blood from her hand as well. They all jump when the door to the stairwell bursts open and a man tumbles through it, breathless from climbing all the way up to the fourth floor.

“What’s—the issue,” he gasps, shoving his way through the group. He stands next to Julia, stares into the room, and says, “Oh. Fuck me.”

-

They send someone to collect the body, someone else to clean up the blood and vomit. They give Julia the option of staying in the room or leaving campus early. They’ve got some sort of system in place, and they’re gonna let the students evacuate building by building so there’s less traffic and less risk of people going crazy. Julia doesn’t think it’ll work, which is why she packs up her room and shoves everything onto the bed of her truck and gets the hell out of dodge.

Or, that’s her plan, until some kid sees her loading up from his window and races down to her before she’s even in the truck. He’s got a suitcase dragging behind him, and he’s breathless and flushed, and Julia already knows what he wants.

“No,” she says, swinging the driver’s door open. She’s lifts a leg, about to climb in.

“Please,” he says, and he’s got an Irish accent and crystal blue eyes just like Lauren. “I’m in the international program, I haven’t got a car and I live on the other side of the world. I just need a ride to the airport. I’ll pay you, please.”

Jaw clenching, Julia stares at him. The suitcase isn’t even that big.

“Is that all you have?” she asks, and she wants to punch herself in the face.

He nods, looking embarrassed. “My da never got around to sending the rest of the stuff I had boxed up.”

Julia squints. “It’s January.”

The guy shrugs, smiling sheepishly. “He’s a busy guy.”

Rolling her eyes, Julia stares inside her car at the peace sign dangling from her rear-view. “Fuck me,” she mutters, and nods at the guy. “Get in.”

“Oh, thank you so much, I swear I’ll pay you,” he babbles, tossing his suitcase into the tight backseat of the cab and pushing the passenger seat back. He climbs in beside Julia, shoving his hand into the space between them. “I’m Niall.”

Sighing, Julia takes his hand. “Julia. Where’s the nearest airport?”

“Oh, uh,” Niall pulls his phone out, tapping at the screen. “Um, so the nearest is Shenandoah Regional, but that one gives me a layover to D.C., so I’ve been flying in and out of Roanoke.” Julia gives him a look, and he nods, tapping at his phone some more. “But, uh, Shenandoah is fine, yeah. It’s about a half hour, here.” He turns his GPS on, propping it up on the dashboard. As soon as he lets it go, it vibrates so hard that it falls right off. Julia’s phone vibrates in her pocket, and as she pulls it out Niall curses, picking up his own. They both freeze at almost the same time, and it would be funny if the reason why wasn’t so terrifying. 

It’s an email from the school, the subject reading  **MBU SET TO CLOSE BY END OF WEEK** . Julia and Niall exchange a look.

“That can’t be good,” Niall says, and proceeds to read the email aloud. “ _ Due to a mysterious illness which has struck a significant number of our students, MBU will be shut down until further notice. Students are encouraged to begin making accommodations tonight and to have moved off campus by this Sunday. If you need extra time to gather your things, please notify your RA no later than 5pm tonight. If your RA is unavailable, please notify Ms. Wilson, Director of Residence Life, no later than 5pm tonight. Students with vehicles on campus will be expected to move off campus before students without. Security will be on and around campus for the rest of the week to ensure the smooth transition out of the residence halls. Any and all students who have not evacuated by Sunday that did not notify the proper authority by today will be forcibly removed from campus. In an effort to prevent any traffic-related injuries, please find a move-out schedule for each building attached to this email. _

“ _ Because health services are currently unable to identify the illness that has spread across campus, students, faculty, and staff are encouraged to visit their doctor’s office as soon as they have made it home. Although there is no sign this illness is contagious, please be sure to wash your hands as frequently as possible and disinfect anything of yours that you think may hold any hostile bacteria. This illness is expected to be identified and cleared from campus within the coming months. MBU prides itself on being a safe and healthy campus, and will work to continue to reflect that image quickly. _ ”

Julia frowns. “Is that it?” She scrolls the email on her own phone, scoffing. “They may as well have shouted ‘fire’ and expected the same results. I’m surprised everyone has even stayed in their rooms this long.”

“It’s because they’re scared,” Niall says, trying to set his phone up again. “That first day in the dining hall? Christ, that was terrifying.” He glances over at her. “Haven’t you seen the video?”

“What? No,” Julia says. “I saw the video from  _ my _ hall, but not from the dining hall. I mean, I was there, but all I saw was some girl collapsing.”

Niall grimaces at her. “Yikes. No, uh, it was a lot worse than that. Um,” he looks at his phone, which he’s finally managed to mount onto the dashboard without it falling over, and sighs, tapping at it carefully. “Um, okay, here it is.” He pulls up a DM on his instagram, scrolling up until he reaches the video. “There’s, like, a lot of blood, if that bothers you.” Julia nods him on, and he presses play.

It’s shaky, blurry, obviously taken on an older phone. “Yo, what the fuck is wrong with you?” someone shouts, at a girl further down the table. She’s face down in her plate of sushi, probably suffocating, and her friends are poking at and shaking her, obviously worried. The girl lifts her head, and her friends get her to stand, but as one of them tries to wrap an arm around her she lunges, teeth bared, ripping a chunk right out of her friend’s throat with a spurt of blood. Everyone around them screams, the video goes wild and then cuts, and Julia feels like she’s about to hurl. She reaches out with a shaky hand, scrolling through the video so it’s paused on the girl baring her teeth. Her eyes are dull, even from as far away as the camera is, and it reminds Julia so strongly of Lauren that she almost throws up again.

“You okay?” Niall asks, looking concerned. “Hey, why are you moving out now, anyway? You said something about your hall; is your whole building clear to leave early?”

Julia sighs, says, “Please stop talking.”


End file.
